


Gig Economy

by justlikesomuch



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-23 02:18:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11980005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikesomuch/pseuds/justlikesomuch
Summary: Lovett is a Lyft driver, a Soothe therapist and more. Tommy is his client.





	1. A ride whenever you need one

Favs: Lovett's going to make some more money by being a Soothe therapist, actually."  
Lovett: "I'm a Lyft driver and a Soothe therapist."  
Favs: "It works out."  
Lovett: "Oh God, I got these confused! Now my car is disgusting."

\- Pod Save America, August 31 2017

************

There was something familiar about the driver, the set of his shoulders and the bit of his face Tommy kept glancing at in the mirror. He couldn’t concentrate on anything else, trying to place the guy.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” 

The driver met his eyes. “The campaign, 2008. Jon Lovett.”

Of course. Hillary’s speechwriter. Tommy vaguely remembered some bitchy exchanges in hotel bars.

“Tommy Vietor.”

“I know. I own a television.” Lovett kept his eyes on the road.

“What are you up to these days, man?”

“I’m a Lyft driver.”

“Yeah, but I mean . . . are you doing any writing out here? You were good. We could have used you in the administration.” Tommy wanted to tell him he still remembered those campaign speeches. This conversation felt like it was falling apart quickly.

“You know, you don’t actually have to chat with me to prove you’re a good guy. You can just check Twitter like a normal person.” Lovett’s tone was jokey, but there was something sour and bitten-off about it.”

“Okay buddy, whatever you want.” Tommy turned his attention to his phone, and they drove on in silence.


	2. The only mattress built for you

“Helix customer support, this is Jon. How may I help you today?”

It wasn’t a typical customer service voice, more weary and impatient from the get-go. Tommy found the voice familiar, somehow.

“Hi, I need to return my mattress. I, uh, need to schedule a pickup.” Why was this so awkward?

“Okay, sir, I’ll get that started. Please give me your name and order number.” The agent put a sneering little punch on the word “sir.”

Tommy gave him the info. There was a moment of silence on the line.

“Why are you returning your mattress?”

“What, sorry? It’s . . . I ordered a custom mattress with the two sides of the bed differently . . . uh, customized. And I don’t need it anymore.”

“Why not?” 

“Why not?!” What the hell was going on here? Weren’t they just supposed to just come pick the damn thing up, no questions asked? Tommy said nothing, waited for the guy to feel awkward about this line of questioning. That did not happen.

“I don’t need the mattress anymore because I ordered it personalized for two people, and now there’s only one person using it. And I don’t want sleep in a constant reminder of a failed relationship. Is that specific enough for you?"

“My system is showing you only ordered it three weeks ago. May I ask why you purchased a personalized mattress for a girlfriend you were about to break up with?”

“Boyfriend. And I didn’t know he was going to leave me when I ordered the fancy mattress, okay? Aren’t you supposed to just come pick up the mattress, no questions asked? Isn’t that your whole deal?”

“That’s the company’s deal.” The agent’s tone was sanctimonious and still sparking at the edges of Tommy’s memory. “I personally think it’s wasteful and entitled to return a mattress. I’m sorry about your breakup. I’ll get that return process started for you."

“Thank you.”


	3. Massage delivered to you

The massage therapist was right on time. Tommy paused before opening the door. This felt so strange and intimate, bringing a stranger into his house to touch him. 

He took a breath and opened the door. He couldn’t believe it.

“Um, hello again.” Lovett was dressed more like a college student than whatever a massage therapist was supposed to look like.

“What the hell? You’re a Lyft driver AND a massage therapist?”

“Yep. Sometimes I mix up my clients and my car ends up disgusting.”

Tommy didn’t want to laugh, but he couldn’t help it. Lovett smiled and saw himself inside, carrying a table under his arm.

“Should I set up here in the living room?” 

“Sure, here’s fine.” This was a terrible idea. Tommy couldn’t believe he let Emily talk him into this. He watched Lovett set up and tried to convince himself this was not as weird as it seemed.

“I’ll wait on your porch for a few minutes, and you can get undressed and lie down on your front.” Lovett started a recording of mellow guitar music and went outside.

Tommy took off his clothes and got on the table, trying to steady his breath. He heard Lovett come back into the house.

Lovett rubbed warm oil onto Tommy’s upper back. He had to admit that felt pretty great. How long had it been since someone touched him like that?

Lovett broke the silence. “I’m going to guess you are doing this because your friends said you need to relax and take care of yourself.”

Tommy laughed. “That’s right. I guess you can probably tell by my shoulders.”

“I can. Listen, you can tell me to shut up anytime. Some people like a silent massage, but I think it’s weird.”

“No, it’s better if you talk. It’s less . . . it’s better.” Tommy took a breath as Lovett’s hands moved on to his lower back.

“I’m sorry I was an asshole when you were in my car. And when you called to return your mattress.” The heels of his hands dug into Tommy’s glutes.

“My mattress? That was you? Of course that was you. How many jobs do you have?”

“Listen, I hate to tell you,” Lovett said, working Tommy’s biceps, “But ‘struggling sitcom writer’ is not the lucrative career you might imagine it to be. Everyone needs a side hustle, or several.”

“I get it.” He wished Lovett could keep doing that to his hands forever. “Do you ever miss politics?”

“Sometimes. I don’t miss the craven, cynical bullshit. But I miss being part of something important.” He began to work Tommy’s scalp, rubbing his fingertips in tight circles at the base of his skull.

Tommy let out a low moan, and Lovett’s hands stilled for a moment. Tommy wished for the earth to open up and swallow them both, saving him from his mortification.

“It’s okay, man,” said Lovett, lightly patting his shoulders. “I’m here to help you feel good.” He turned his attention to Tommy’s legs.

Tommy settled into the table, tried to relax and enjoy Lovett’s hands. He listened to the music, breathed in the smell of the oil, and watched the light change in the room as the afternoon turned to evening.


	4. A better way to cook

Tommy pulled up the customer care page and tapped on “Live video support.” A chat window opened and there, of course, was Jon Lovett. He was wearing a baseball cap and cradling a small curly-haired dog. He beamed when he recognized Tommy.

“Welcome to Blue Apron kitchen assistance. How have you fucked up your meal today?”

“Do you always hold a dog while you help people cook? Seems super professional.”

“Excuse me, Pundit is helping. Customers love her.”

“She is cute. She looks like my friend’s dog.”

“Your friend should be so lucky. So what can we help you with?”

“Okay, I’m trying to make the . . . Hazelnut-Stuffed Summer Squash, but when I try to scoop out the squash, they kind of fall apart.”

“Show me,” said Lovett.

Tommy scanned his phone over the sad pile of zucchini on his countertop.

“What the hell did you do to them? Did you PEEL the squash?”

“Uh, yeah, I thought you were supposed to peel squash.”

“Who told you to peel them? Did the instructions tell you to get out a peeler? Why would you try to improvise with your meal kit? What were you thinking? Pundit is outraged. Aren’t you, aren’t you?” He paused his rant to let the dog kiss his face.

“Is it salvageable?” Tommy poured himself a glass of wine.

“I don’t know, man. Maybe tell your date you decided to order in.” Lovett’s webcam was slightly lower than his face, and Tommy found something sort of adorable in the way he looked from this angle, his eyebrows knitting together as he dropped that obvious fishing hook.

“I’m cooking for my business partner and his fiancee. You remember Jon Favreau?”

“Sure I do. What’s your business?” Lovett set Pundit down on the floor.

“We started a political podcast. We want to expand to other shows, eventually. But we’re kind of stuck right now.” Tommy sips his wine. “We’re missing some element. It’s, like, too serious, too intense and wonky.”

“Intense can be good. Especially these days. Talk about grim.” Lovett rested his chin in his hand. His face seemed so close.

“How’s your writing going?”

“Uch, I’m trying to sell a pilot. Everything sucks.”

“Maybe you should focus on the massage thing. You’re great with your hands. I mean, you’re great with your words, too. I mean . . .” Tommy’s whole body felt hot. Why was he so bad at this?

“I’m great with my hands, Thomas? Are you one of those creeps who uses customer support to get off? Did you sabotage that zucchini on purpose? You seemed like such a nice boy.”

Tommy gathered himself, looked directly into the phone’s camera. “I’m an extremely nice boy.”

Lovett smiled and bit his lower lip. Just then, Tommy’s doorbell rang.

“Shit, that’s Favs and Emily. Um, I’ll talk to you later.” He ended the chat and slammed his phone down.


	5. Made to measure

By this point, Tommy wasn’t even surprised to find him at the Indochino showroom.

Lovett grinned when he saw him and went to find Tommy’s suit. He waited outside the changing booth while Tommy tried it on.

The suit looked great, Tommy had to admit. The blue brought out his eyes. He looked taller, somehow.

Lovett watched him in the mirror. He smoothed Tommy’s shoulders and straightened the jacket. He ran his hands lightly over Tommy’s arms.

Tommy twisted a bit to inspect his backside. “Do you think the pants are too tight?”

Lovett took a breath. “No, I mean, they’re tight, but it’s . . . like . . . good tight.”

Tommy smiled. He liked hearing snarky Lovett so inarticulate. He leaned back ever so slightly, moving even further into Lovett’s space. Lovett didn’t move away. Tommy tilted his hips back until their bodies were touching.

Lovett glanced around, saw they were alone in the showroom. He grabbed Tommy’s hip lightly, pressed himself slowly into the cleft of his ass. Goddamn tight pants. 

Tommy’s dropped his head forward and screwed his eyes shut. He moved further back into Lovett’s touch. This was insane. 

Lovett grabbed his arms and steered him back into the dressing room. Still standing behind him, he unzipped Tommy’s pants and took out his cock. He licked his palm and began to stroke him with a quick, delicious rhythm. His other hand gripped Tommy’s jaw.

Tommy watched them in the mirror. It really was a beautiful suit.


	6. Plus one

He spotted him at the wedding, watching the ocean with a beer in hand. 

“I like your suit. Lavender looks great on you.”

Lovett turned and grinned. “It’s mulberry, actually. No heteronormative blue for me! Check this out.” He opened the jacket a bit to reveal a black lining with purple circles.”

“Beautiful. What are you doing here, anyway?”

“My date is friends with the bride.”

“Oh. Oh! I guess I sort of got the sense that you were . . .”

“Available? Extremely into you? Desperately hoping that you’d call LegalZoom and ask me to help you with your estate planning?”

Tommy stepped closer to him. 

“There you are!” Lovett’s date barreled into him and threw an arm around his shoulders. She gave Tommy an appraising look.

“This is that guy that I told you about, remember? The one I kept getting as a client at all my jobs.” He smiled at Tommy.

“The one you said looked like a boat shoe came to life as a person?” 

Tommy felt his ears go pink. He had to admit that was a pretty accurate description.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “Lovett likes boat shoes.” She gave Lovett’s arm a pinch and bounced off to join the other guests on the dance floor.

They regarded each other a while without speaking. 

“So you like boat shoes, Lovett? What else do you like?” Tommy couldn’t stop smiling.

“Oh, so very many things. I have a heart too soon made glad. I enjoy chance encounters, musician’s hands, strong political convictions. . .”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“I think you’d better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's Lovett's suit: https://www.indochino.com/product/mulberry-birdseye-suit
> 
> I'm canning peaches on Tumblr, same name.


End file.
